Not So Simple
by XMissxHallawayX
Summary: DH:EWE? eighth year fic. Hermione has chosen to return to Hogwarts to complete her education, take her NEWTs, and better herself as a human being. She wasn't expecting to find herself in a situation where she'd be living in the same house as Draco Malfoy, let alone not attend normal classes. TITLE AND RATING SUBJECTIVE!
1. Numbers

**Eighth year fic! I found some Dramione inspiration! Please forgive any OOCness on the part of our beloved Malfoy, I've never really written him for others.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The letters had all arrived looking completely normal, save a note at the bottom of each sixth or seventh year (and all eighth year students as well) concerning the start-of-term feast.

_All students in their NEWT years are required to remain in the Great Hall as the younger students depart for bed. This includes returning eighth year students!_

Now, Hermione sat in a carriage with Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Draco Malfoy, though she'd rather be anywhere else. She knew, for example, that Malfoy's family claimed to have seen the error of their ways and had given up their prejudices, but she didn't quite believe it.

"Wonder why they're keeping us late," Luna said, not looking up from her copy of the _Quibbler_. "It's not like them."

"Maybe it's some lecture on how we're supposed to practice inter-house unity now that You-Know-Who's dead for good," Neville suggested.

"Or perhaps it's because of a new Ministry program. They've got a nasty tendency to spring those on Hogwarts," Hermione added.

"It's neither of those."

Both Gryffindor students and the singular Ravenclaw stared at the Slytherin, mouths hanging open.

"You know what this is about?" Hermione said. _How the hell does he know about it? Why is it not common knowledge? Ugh. Do I even want to know?_

"Of course I do." Malfoy slid his hand through his pale hair and smirked. "But you're all going to have to wait until the start-of-term feast to find out. I'm not up to sharing."

"Git," Neville said under his breath, slumping against the side of the carriage.

"You're probably going to regret that."

* * *

The start-of-term feast seemed to move slower than a pool of molasses on a slab of ice. It was annoying to Hermione, having to wait for what she was sure would be the most important information of the year.

An extra chair had been placed between Professor Sinistra's and Professor McGonagall's, which had been Professor Dumbledore's seat not two years previous. In this chair, a willowy woman with wide hazel eyes, long, dark red hair, and freckled ivory skin sat, delicately eating her meal as she conversed with the two older witches. It seemed humor came easily to this beautiful woman, as every thirty minutes or so a rare and boisterous laugh filled the Great Hall, courtesy of Professor Sinistra.

"Who is that?" Hermione muttered under her breath. The woman was a mystery – no one Hermione knew of could elicit such a reaction from Professor Sinistra. With this in mind, the young brunette could hardly eat for nervousness. She could only think of what news this strange woman would bring.

So, when the last crumbs of dessert vanished, Hermione sat attentive, eyes on Professor McGonagall as the witch stood.

"Welcome, to each and every one of you. I trust that this year will be nothing like last year, with our victory amidst great loss. To our new, young students, I have a few announcements – that, honestly, I hope all of our returning students will remember and thoroughly recognize their past transgressions, no matter how the resulting effects helped our school.

"The Forbidden Forest on the school grounds is off-limits to anyone, unless they are accompanying Professor Hagrid for a class assignment. Some creatures do not come out of the forest, and as such it is all right if, in the presence of a teacher, you are there to observe them.

"Mr. Filch, who is in his next-to-last year of employment here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has asked me to inform all students, both new and returning, that magic is not permitted in the corridors of the school. This is for the safety of all inside, and especially for the health of the school caretaker.

"A change in staff has been necessitated by my appointment to headmistress, as well as three other changes. I am pleased to announce the appointment of William Weasley to the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, as well as the appointment of Molly Weasley to the post I vacated with my acceptance of this new position, Transfiguration professor.

"For the post of Muggle Studies teacher, there were many applicants. From the pool, we have selected Penelope Clearwater for the position.

"Finally, to replace a position once held by Severus Snape and Horace Slughorn, Potions master, we have appointed Fleur Delacour. I trust you will treat all four with the utmost respect accorded to a Hogwarts professor."

Hermione, scanning the head table once more, saw Bill, Molly, and Fleur waving at her, all beaming. With a grin and a soft laugh, she waved in reply. However, when she spied Penelope Clearwater, her eyes quickly turned to Professor McGonagall. She'd impersonated the slightly-older woman in hope of escaping a group of Snatchers and had no idea if she was aware of the transgression.

"Now. Many of you are probably wondering who this is at my side." The new headmistress gestured lightly to the redhead. "Her name is Elena Hallaway. She has designed a fully-immersed program for young witches and wizards – or, more specifically, for our sixth, seventh, and eighth year students. This program lasts for two years and is full of rich things you will all need in your life and future. I can only hope that each and every one of you will excel at this.

"I fear I've kept you too long. Students, please follow your house prefects to the dormitories – first through fifth years only, please. Sixth year and above, please follow Miss Hallaway through the door behind the staff table. You will understand shortly what this program entails. Farewell."

With a shrug, Hermione and Neville stood, following the redhead through the door to what felt like their doom.

* * *

In a large gazebo, the eighty-eight students gathered, taking seats wherever they could – grouping as best as possible by house. Neville and Hermione sat close beside each other, but no one spoke.

Everyone's eyes were on the tall redhead in the sapphire blue robes, who stood beside what looked like an antique Muggle cash register.

"Hello. My name is Elena Marie Hallaway. I developed, among other things, this beautiful thing beside me – the Astrologically Mapping Matchmaker. All I need to do is put in your birthdates and it will tell me who, among those present, is most compatible with one another. This is essential for the program."

A few hands shot up into the air, Hermione's included.

"Questions, please, will be held until I've finished speaking." The hands slowly lowered.

"This program is, officially, known as the Fully Integrated Magical Simulation, or F.I.M.S. for short. It's a training program for your futures. You will be employed, earning real money, and living on your own. There will be a bank, run by yours truly, where you can keep your money from others, and may withdraw from your Gringotts bank account, if you truly need it. This is not advisable, unless you are building an emergency fund.

"In addition to living without your parents' assistance, you will care for a magically-simulated child. The first nine months of this program are a fully-simulated pregnancy, created with the use of the Neo-Maternity Potion and a series of shots." A brilliant smile lit up the woman's face. "Any questions?"

Hermione's hand was the first one in the air. She was also the first called on.

"I was wondering where we'll be living during this?"

Elena's grin grew. "You'll be living in a village not too far from Hogwarts. We've named it Raven's Glade, and there are some rather interesting details contained within."

Another person, a sixth year, asked his question next.

"Is it possible to get extra credit in this program?"

Elena nodded. "Extra credit for any of your classes is possible while taking part in this program. The only things we can grade you on that are actually part of the program are your actions with the simulated children and your skills with budgeting the money earned. Anything else can and will count toward your regular NEWT level curriculum."

Hermione was the only one who raised her hand this time.

"Will we take part in regular classes during this?"

"No. NEWTs will be administered at the end of your seventh – or, as the case may be, your eighth – year as normal. Books required will be provided, completely free of charge. No one is to be left out of the full simulation experience!"

A slow, appreciative murmur spread through the assembled students. Hermione bit her lip against an outburst of disappointment. She actually enjoyed school. So what?

"Now, if each of you would come up one at a time and put your name, birth-date, and gender into this delightful machine at my side, we'll be able to settle you all into two-person homes," Elena said.

"_You mean this is a two-person program?"_

"_We're living together?!"_

The outbursts were expected. The presence of the Astrologically Mapping Matchmaker had tipped Hermione off to what this program entailed.

Couples.

The gossip-mongers would go crazy with this one – Rita Skeeter in particular. Hermione remained her favorite gossip subject, no matter how long it had been since the Triwizard Tournament. Articles churned out in every edition of _Witch Weekly_ concerning the intellectual third of the Saviors Three. The worst period had been the months of July and August, when word of her breakup with Ron Weasley had finally reached public ears. It had been an amicable split, with Hermione focusing on her educational needs and Ron swooning over Lavender Brown.

It was with this in mind that Hermione stood and walked up to the machine. Noting the typewriter-like appearance of the keys, she began to type in her information.

**HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER. 9/19/1979, FEMALE**

Everyone was staring at her as she returned to her seat, but the other eighty-seven students seemed to catch on. Elena brought over something looking like a receipt with the basic data she would be matched on. It was in a convenient list format.

**Hermione Jean Granger  
Western Zodiac: Virgo  
Eastern Zodiac: Goat  
Native American Zodiac: Bear  
Plant: Violets  
Name contains 19 letters.  
These letters add up to 106.  
Vowels: 8  
Consonants: 11  
General Number: 7  
Soul Urge Number: 1  
Life Path Number: 9  
Inner Dream Number: 6**

With a grin, Hermione settled into her seat. This would be a delightful year at Hogwarts, no matter what the results generated by the AMM said. She would survive.

* * *

Draco was purposefully one of the last to put in his information. He took the receipt from the machine and walked back to his seat.

**Draco Lucius Malfoy  
Western Zodiac: Gemini  
Eastern Zodiac: Monkey  
Native American Zodiac: Elk  
Plant: Mullein  
Name contains 17 letters.  
These letters add up to 72.  
Vowels: 7  
Consonants: 10  
General Number: 9  
Soul Urge Number: 11  
Life Path Number: 3  
Inner Dream Number: 7**

Rolling his eyes, he leaned back, contented.

* * *

When everyone had returned to their seats, Elena turned and struck a button on the machine. It began to churn out more receipts, perforated and clean, each with two lines of printed text.

"I should tell you that in this program, the Astrologically Mapping Matchmaker's word is the absolute law. No pairs can be undone. If it says a Gryffindor and a Slytherin are paired, that pair will have an additional grade come out of this. Overcoming adversity is one of the many goals we – myself and Professor McGonagall – have in implementing this program."

No one said anything. Elena turned and began reading off pairs. Very few names were recognizable to the brunette Gryffindor, until her own name fell from Elena's lips.

**_"Hermione Jean Granger and Draco Lucius Malfoy."_**

Elena continued down the list, unaware of the sudden bomb she had just dropped. The entire collection of students sat there, dumbfounded, staring at her.

All but two.

Hermione and Draco locked gazes across the sea of incredulous teenagers. If the woman had wanted to create peace after adversity, she'd chosen the best examples of adversity to pair. Perhaps Fate had made the choice. Hermione didn't care, and from his expression, Draco didn't either.

As such, when Elena finished the list and rapped a blackboard near her with her wand, Hermione's hand flew into the air.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I know you said that the pairs are irrevocable, but Mr. Malfoy and I share a colorfully violent past. What will that do to our experience with the simulation?"

"It could do many things, none of which I can get into tonight. Now. On the blackboard you will find that your General and Life Path numbers have been turned into a four-digit code, with both Native American zodiac animals preceding the code. Join your assigned partner and discern your appropriate code," Elena said, affecting an authoritative voice. "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, join me please."

With a groan, Hermione stood and walked up to the woman. They were joined a moment later by Draco, looking rather nonchalant.

"May I see your information?" Elena asked. The two handed over the receipts, and she turned to the rest of the group. "I'll use these two as an example – the girl's numbers and animal come first. Their code is – BearElk7993. Locating this on the blackboard grid, we find that their home for the duration of the simulation is -" Elena turned back to the board and located the code herself "- 18 Wildflower Avenue." The woman lifted a folded map from beside the AMM. "Good luck, you two. I'm sure you'll need it."

Hermione opened the map and sighed, only to have Elena put a hand on her shoulder.

"Come by the clinic – located at 1282 Main Street – tomorrow, at nine in the morning, both of you. We'll need to discuss everything and mix up your potion."

"Of course, Ms. Hallaway. We'll see you then," Hermione told her, turning away and exiting the gazebo onto a softly-lit street.

* * *

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, I told you three hours ago that we should have turned at Rose Way!" Hermione insisted. "It's nearly midnight and I'm eager to get to bed!"

"Granger, I honestly don't care. We're almost there."

"What street are we on?"

"Vermillion Drive."

Hermione checked the map and looked ahead. "Go right at the fork, and we'll be on Wildflower."

Suddenly, Draco was mocking. "Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry I doubted you."

"Childish."

"Know-it-all."

When they finally entered the cottage, Hermione yanked off her shoes and laid out on the couch, almost instantly falling asleep, not even taking in a detail. Draco, shaking his head, went to the bedroom and did almost the exact same thing.

* * *

**So? Whatcha think? The numbers presented are Hermione and Draco's honest-to-God numerology numbers. These can be checked using the name and birthday calculators that you can access through this:**

**www .paulsadowski .com Numbers .asp**

**Remove the spaces to see what the site holds! Calculate their numbers for yourself!**

**Much love,**

**xHx**

**P.S., I was listening to Nightwish while writing this chapter. Specifically, the songs _While Your Lips Are Still Red_ and _Sleeping Sun_(the 1999 version!). Enjoy these beautiful ballads for yourself!**


	2. Potions

On the morning of September second, Hermione awoke to the scent of bacon tickling her nose. _That's odd,_ she thought. _I could have sworn I fell asleep in the living room of a cottage, not the kitchen!_

It was with this in mind that Hermione opened her eyes to see Draco Malfoy approaching with a silver platter. This sight shocked her so much that she couldn't help a laugh bubbling from her throat.

"Sleeping Beauty wakes," he said softly, setting the platter on the coffee table. "I took the liberty of making breakfast."

"You didn't poison it, did you? How'd you know I like my eggs over-easy?"

"I took a wild guess with the eggs, and no, I wouldn't poison you. We both want to graduate, right?" Hermione nodded. "And I can't finish this program without you – am I right again?" Another nod. "So, I wouldn't poison you if my grades were at risk. That would be one situation my family can't get me out of."

"Doubt there's anything your dad can get you out of right now, though," Hermione said, picking up an already-laden plate and a fork, blending together her eggs and fried potatoes. "Not many people trust him nowadays, right?"

"Very true."

"What time is it?" Hermione punctuated this by shoveling a fork-full of egg-and-potato-blend into her mouth.

"It's eight-thirty, Granger. We've got plenty of time before we have to meet that woman," Draco said, scooping a helping of potatoes into his mouth. "No rush."

"Can I see the map?"

Draco laid it flat on the table. "We're not far from Main Street, so that makes things easy enough. Just a short walk down Wildflower Avenue, a right turn onto Willow Drive, and a left onto Main Street. The clinic's the eighth building on the left."

"All right. Let's eat, get dressed, and get over there. We have a nine o'clock appointment with Elena Hallaway."

* * *

The two made it to the clinic with seconds to spare. Elena met them at the door, ushering them into a sort of exam room.

"This is a most complicated potion and it requires punctuality, among other things, to properly take hold," she said. "Take a seat, and I'll explain the various possible repercussions."

_Repercussions? _Hermione thought. _That does not sound good._ She took a seat, folding her hands in her lap as she waited for the redhead to explain.

"There is a risk of an actual pregnancy. I've sent letters to the parents of the sixth-year boys and girls concerning this and have been told that I'll face a lawsuit if the underage students end up coming home with kids. It is because of this that I launched an investigation into why it happens. It seems that a certain combination of astrological, numerological, and physical conditions result in a real pregnancy.

"I am hoping to avoid this, but because the AMM does not give the specifications that I require, it could happen."

"So," Hermione began, "we could leave Raven's Glade in two years with a very real child?"

Draco, meanwhile, was going a very good imitation of a fish, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly. Hermione would have laughed if it hadn't been exactly what she'd expected from the Slytherin. The possibility of being permanently tied to Hermione Granger, someone he'd tormented for years upon years, was not the most ideal future he could imagine.

"Yes, Miss Granger, it is a very real possibility. It is something we are striving to avoid, but it could happen."

"You said a specific set of circumstances could cause it. What does that mean?" Hermione commented.

"A certain alignment of conditions can cause it. There doesn't seem to be a set level of what these are – they just have to align in some way I can't even figure out. I've tried every Arithmancy equation I know on it – nothing adds up."

"Maybe I could give it a try when I have time?"

"Most definitely. I'll get the information to you," the redhead finally said. "Now. There are a few things I need from you, Mr. Malfoy, and a couple things from you, Miss Granger."

"Seems uneven," Draco said.

"It's always uneven, Mr. Malfoy," Elena replied, handing each a list of things required. "Now. Miss Granger, if you would go down the hall, Alicia will help you prepare for what lays ahead. Mr. Malfoy…just follow the given instructions."

* * *

Three hours later, the pair sat in a tasteful waiting room, flipping through magazines and watching as other pairs arrived. Hermione looked up every time the door to the exam hall opened.

"What did you have to do?" Draco asked, turning the page of _Which Broomstick_ and skimming an article about the new Thunderbolt broom that was available.

"I would rather not talk about it, Draco," Hermione replied. She was reading the _Quibbler_, as it was the only available magazine that she was remotely interested in.

"Fine," Draco said, flipping the page to continue reading the article.

Just a moment later, the receptionist, Virginia, called, "Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger?" The two looked up again. "Elena wants to see you."

With a sigh, Draco and Hermione set aside their magazines and stood. Hermione brushed off the front of her jeans as she did so, determination in her expression as she pushed open the door to the exam area. Elena met them outside one of the rooms, gesturing them inside.

"I'm sorry it took me so long – there were some annoyances with the schedule," Elena said, extracting a vial of red liquid from her desk. Its hand-written label had their initials on it. "This will only work for you two – no one else will be able to ingest the same potion. Miss Granger, as the one who has to ingest this, I must offer you a word of warning – it tastes like rotten milk and black licorice blended with ice."

Hermione took the vial, uncapped it, and inhaled the scent. It was cinnamon and citrus, with a soft floral undertone. "It smells decent," she said softly.

"Just as the deadliest plants in the universe are the most beautiful, the most disgusting potions in our society often smell far better than they taste," Draco said.

"My thoughts exactly, Mr. Malfoy," Elena said. "Now. Drink up, Hermione."

She tipped the vial into her mouth and shuddered, barely restraining her gag reflex at the flavor. It really did taste revolting. Not only that, but it was cold as ice as it flowed down her throat.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed a moment later, letting the vial land upon the table beside her. "How positively disgusting!"

Elena grinned. "Please return in three weeks' time, so that certain things may be checked," she said, handing over a sheet of parchment. "These are some of the things I would highly recommend doing in those three weeks."

* * *

When the unlikely pair arrived at their cottage, Hermione went straight to the kitchen, filling a mixing bowl with various ingredients as Draco sat upon the counter.

"First thing on this list is _find employment_¸" the Slytherin said, tacking the parchment over the sink. "Where are we supposed to do that?"

"Well, if memory serves, George Weasley was keeping uncharacteristically quiet about a new project concerning his joke business. Perhaps he's opened a shop here." Draco seemed to have nothing to say, so Hermione simply continued. "I overheard a couple of the seventh year girls in the waiting room talking about a branch of Madam Puddifoot's, too."

"Oh, not that place."

"Yes, that place, Draco. I hate it just as much as you."

"Pansy forced me to go there once in fourth year," he said, observing her silently. "It was a nightmare."

"So were Pansy's Yule Ball dress robes," Hermione said, extracting a wire whisk from a drawer and proceeding to mix the contents of the bowl together.

Draco chuckled. "I agree with that, wholeheartedly. What are you making?"

"Cupcakes. I like to bake."

* * *

**Yep! A sudden cutoff!**

**Lost muse temporarily. Don'tkillme!**

**Much love,**

**xHx**


End file.
